Blind Faith
by King Paige Allen
Summary: Hermione Granger makes a friend in her first year at Hogwarts, and spends time bonding with Sirius Black, Madam Pomfrey's innocent assistant. Hermione's friend, Leona, has known nothing but abuse, so when she and Hermione are whisked into the past, can she trust Hermione- and someone else- to take care of her? Sirius/Hermione, Severus/OC (Leona)
1. Chapter 1

**I own nothing except my OC (Ugh, I know what you're thinking; bare with me!) and the plot. I will be taking some creative liberty, as this is fan-fiction (i.e. Remus is a teacher's aid and Sirius is cleared of the crimes, already having escaped before the Trio's first year). Do try to remember that.  
Sirius/Hermione; Snape/OC; very slight Harry/Ginny; very slight Ron/Lavender in later chapters.  
Everything else you recognize is the property of the lovely J.K. Rowling.  
****Adult themes****- this is important. Mentions of rape, though not in terrible detail. Relationships between adult and a student (not physical until graduation). Graphic details, mild swearing.  
Enjoy.  
**

* * *

She had been cut before, with a knife and other sharp things; she had been tied up and beaten, with fists and lamps and even the boots he _said _he wore to work; she had been burned with cigarettes and the stove tops; she had been starved, gone days without being allowed to bathe; she was not allowed to go to school; but the one thing that had never happened before that day was rape.

Her mother had just died- she was not allowed to ask how- and so she was left all alone with her father in their flat in the middle of the city. Then, after seven years of no schooling and seeing drugs in her house and knowing a man before she had even had a chance to explore her own body, like everyone else did, and being beaten and whipped with a leather whip, she found a piece of paper on the rug inside the front door. She had wriggled out of her ropes and slid out of the filthy bed, trying to figure a way to sneak a bath to wash the remnants of man- _her own father_- off her when she found it.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Ms. Barlow,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Following this was the aforementioned list of necessary equipment, but Leona could not read any part of the letter. Since she was bruised so often- especially to hide the long, thin, deep whip marks across her back, from shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip- she had never been allowed to go to school, develop any social skills or the ability to read or do math.

She knew how to feel fear; that was something she had been taught a long time ago. She knew anger; that was to be expected.

Looking around her- her father was lying on the bed, next to where she had been lying- she tried to figure out a way to read the letter. She struggled with the words for a long time- she knew how to _say _them, but not how to _read _them- but her father stirred on the bed. She looked around frantically (the house was not that big, so she did not have very many places to hide the letter) and then stuffed the letter under the rug by the front door, where she knew it wouldn't be found. She jumped back in the bed, lie like she was asleep, and ground her teeth like she usually did when she knew she would soon be in pain.

XOXOXO

At first she had fought her father, with her tiny four-year-old strength, and kicked and screamed and begged for her mommy. He thought it was funny and continued to touch her in bad places, laughing in her face so that she could smell whatever he had drank that day. Now, at eleven, she lay there, glassy eyes blank as they watched the ceiling while the bed shook, thinking about how many colors could be found in the sky at once, and what trees probably smelled like. Even when she had been allowed outside, she had never seen a real tree.

He finished, and yelled some curse words with a sick smirk on his face, and rolled off her so she could breathe again.

"I'm going to the corner," he told her. She did not answer, did not look at him, did not move; that was not her job.

"If you so much as sit up while I'm gone, you'll find the end of that leather whip real quick," he said close to her face. She did not move.

He had been gone for maybe ten minutes when the front door opened again. She had not moved- her back was still sore from the day before, when he had reopened all the whip wounds- and did not move even then, waiting for him to open another can and be on her once more. That did not happen however. The next events went something like this.

She took a chance and lifted her head; the person- people- she saw standing there were not her father. He was the only person she had ever seen besides her mother since she was three, and the thought of new people frightened her. She did a roll off the bed, landing lithely on her feet in front of the nightstand, turned around and grabbed the first thing her fingers found; a glass ashtray.

The first younger-looking man put his hands up in front of him, knees bent as he cautiously approached her, holding some kind of twig in his right hand. The man behind him, wearing a dress and a beard almost as long, watched her carefully as well, and spoke in a scratchy voice, "Can you tell us your name?"

The old man waited for her to answer while the younger one crept closer and closer, still pointing the twig at her. Her heart was racing, and she looked quickly at the bed; she knew if she wasn't back in it in the same position when her father returned, she would get the whip again and she did not want that.

"You have to leave!" she whispered urgently, "Or you'll get the whip too!"

The younger man looked horrified, and the older man looked sad. "No one will be getting whipped," the old man said, and she nodded and confirmed, "Yes huh! I got up, I'm gonna get it!"

The younger man looked down and cringed. "Albus, she's bleeding."

She lobbed the ash tray as hard as she could at the young man; he ducked and it shattered against the wall, and she gasped and covered her mouth, staring at it.

"He heard," she whispered, terrified, "he heard 'nd now I'm gonna get it!"

The younger man was in front of her now, within touching distance. She didn't know what to do. She had heard both of their voices now, and they were not her father's, and she hated her father's voice but at the same time it was the only one she knew.

"Remus," the old man cautioned, but the young man did not listen. He stepped toward the girl one more time and lowered himself down. "What's your name?" he asked her gently. He looked tired, with scars on his face and shadows under his eyes and gray in his sandy hair.

"Not supposed to say," she whispered, grinding her teeth. She knew she was going to get touched by this man, she knew it, and then she was going to get the whip because she got out of the bed.

He smiled comfortingly at her. "It's alright, you can tell me," he said easily, although he still looked extremely apprehensive. She looked at the door, and the bed, and then leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "Leona Barlow."

He smiled wide at her and said, "That's a lovely name! Tell me Leona, would you like to go to-"

"LEONA!"

There was a fierce pounding on the door and Leona jumped back on the bed by instinct, straightening her arms and legs so she was lying the way she had been before.

"UNLOCK THIS DAMN DOOR RIGHT NOW!"

Leona was too afraid to speak. The men, although the young one seemed wary, did not look upset.

The young man leaned over her on the bed. "Would you like to go to school?" he asked her, still forcing a smile. She did not answer, only lay on the bed, petrified.

The pounding on the door increased and Leona's heart lept into her throat. Her father was furious, and she knew she would not only get the whip but probably the knife as well.

"Collect her, Remus," the old man said, gathering his robes about him, "we should be leaving now."

The young man hesitated; her father started kicking at the door, screaming expletives; he hoisted her up around the waist and tucked her quite tightly inside his black cloak, holding her to his chest. "You may Disapparate," the old man said, "I'd like to have a few words with Mr. Barlow. Oh, Remus, take this to Madam Pomfrey."

The old man handed the young man the leather whip, and Leona cringed and turned her face away; she knew she wouldn't get out of this without a whipping.

The young man patted her back. "No whippings here," he said to her, and they were gone.

* * *

Sirius Black sat on a bed in the hospital wing, his new place of employment, watching Madam Pomfrey label potion bottles. He was still thinking about Harry, his godson, and how happy he had seemed when he'd been told that he could live with Sirius, and how he would get to finally see Harry again after all these years. He was thinking about his new job, learning to be a healer in Hogwarts. If he needed help with a student, Madam Pomfrey would be there to help him out, and he would be able to see his godson every day as well.

Perhaps the only bad thing about his job was Snivellus. He had to see the bloke every day, as he often brewed potions that needed to be stocked in Madam Pomfrey's stores. He would silently take the bottles from the git, and Snape would sneer at him, and they would interact no more.

Then, while he was reading a rather boring book on head colds, someone slowly opened the front door and stepped inside, wearing a heavy black cloak and mumbling. Sirius shut his book and stood up, calling, "Hello?" He was surprised to see his friend Remus, but when he looked closer he saw that Remus was holding either a large baby or a horrendously underdeveloped child. The thing, when he got close enough, reeked, and was smudged with dirt and a few other substances as well. Sirius' eyes widened and he immediately called for Madam Pomfrey, who came bustling out, and turned back to Remus. Remus lay the child on a bed, where it remained on its back and still, and grimly searched in his cloak pocket. When he had found what he had been searching for, he lay it on the bed as well, and Sirius gasped.

It was a leather whip.

Madam Pomfrey gaped for a moment as well, and then turned serious once more.

"Where did you find her, Remus?"

"Her house. Dumbledore and I were just there. She was sent a letter but no one responded. Her father came back while we were there, started yelling and kicking the door. She said if we didn't leave we would 'get the whip too'." Remus looked heartbroken.

Sirius dashed away to his chair and came back with a note pad, something he was required to do so he could take notes on all his patients. Normally the people he tended to had colds or stomachaches or something trivial, and all he had to do was note their name and whatever they took, but this would be different, he could tell.

Madam Pomfrey cast a few diagnostic spells and Sirius noted them, and Remus turned away. Madam Pomfrey stripped the girl of the dress she had been wearing and surveyed the girl's front. She had obviously not hit puberty yet, as there was no hair anywhere, and not a spot on her face, and her chest was flat. Her eyes were blank, and when Madam Pomfrey touched a place on her stomach her eyes slid upward, looking dreamily at the ceiling. Remus made a sad noise in his throat. Sirius' eyes tightened.

Madam Pomfrey looked up at Remus and made a gesture that she was going to need some privacy. Remus nodded, whispered, "Let me know," and left.

Madam Pomfrey said quietly to the girl, "Child, I'm going to have an examination of your private parts, alright? Say something if I should hurt you."

The girl did not answer.

Madam Pomfrey examined, and allowed Sirius to examine as well; it did not bother her that a man was looking- he was dedicated to his job and the girl was not even pubescent.

The scars on the girl were the first thing that Madam Pomfrey noticed. They were often wiggly and varied in thickness, as if the person making them had been drunk, or blind. They were obviously old, as they were white and soft, though that did not make them any less terrible. The poor girl . . . Madam Pomfrey knew, by the tearing and bruising and the grown-up nature of the sight, that the girl had been raped, and more than once at that.

Sirius scratched that down grimly.

After completing her inspection of the girl's front, and hearing no objection from her, she gingerly flipped the girl over on her front and allowed herself a gasp this time.

"Merlin," Sirius whispered, horrified.

There were long, thin scars all the way across the girl's back, from shoulder to shoulder all the way down. Some of them were as white as the scars on her thighs, and some looked as if they'd been made the day before. Both healers' eyes went to the whip lying on the bed.

"Oh, no."

* * *

"I'm telling you, I don't know what's caused it!"

"I've read every book I've got, and I've even checked some out of the library! Hermione told me where to find some, and I read them all- nothing!"

"Not surprising you couldn't find anything, Black, it would be required that you knew how to read before your worthless carcass could be of any help here."

"Now, Severus, that will help nothing. I want to know-"

"And if I knew I would tell you! I've got work I could be doing right now, woman, do not presume to think I am enjoying my time here-"

"And I suppose you think it's all her fault that she can't see, right?"

"I think," Severus Snape drawled silkily, "that it would be in your best interest, Black, to give up this pitiful charade of pretending you know anything and going back to your pubs- clearly you do not possess the information necessary to help this wretched thing. _Move_!"

Leona had, upon her first inspection at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, been deemed a special case. She could not read, could not write, did not know any social skills whatsoever and froze up whenever anyone touched her. Her hygene had been deplorable, and she had not a single possession to her name except the excessive amount of scars on her back.

However, after one year at the school, she had managed to learn a basic vocabulary such as, "Thank you," and "Yes, ma'am, no, ma'am, yes, sir, no, sir," and "Excuse me, could you tell me what that means?" at which point she would gesture to a word she did not know. Most of the people had been helpful where they could, especially one Hermione Granger. Sirius thought fondly of her. Almost every day for their first year, Hermione would help Leona through her classes and then go to the infirmary with her to collect a potion that would help her sleep. Sirius brewed them sometimes, when he was not working on his studies, but most often Snape brewed them. He would deliver them to the infirmary at the same time that Leona would need them, and Sirius and Hermione would talk while Leona choked down the white-blue potion. Snape would open her mouth, pour it in, and then order her to go to her quarters and sleep. She would nod once, say, "Yes, sir," and then follow Hermione back to Gryffindor Tower.

Of course, none of the four people who had been previousy aware of Leona's condition had doubted that she would be in Gryffindor; where else would she be, if she had managed to live through this ridiculous abuse? Yes, the hat put her there immediately and Hermione made room for her on the seat. Their first year had gone well enough.

The summer after her first year, Leona began working on some basics that she would need for her second year. Everyone, meaning Dumbledore, had decided that it would be good for her if she got a head start on these materials. The girl learned very quickly, and was receptive to new material, but had almost nothing to work off of. It had been Dumbledore himself who had taught Leona her alphabet, complete with pictures for aid and lemon drops for rewards, and her numbers, up to fifty. When she had been in the infirmary more often than not, Sirius had read to her, and she listened. He admitted he was fond of her; Dumbledore had taken pity on her; Snape tolerated her; and Madam Pomfrey loved her.

She had personally lost sleep over the girl. Sirius could see the first day she had come that her heart had been broken, and he knew then that she would spend the rest of her days nursing the girl. Madam Pomfrey had no children, and Sirius wondered if she wasn't trying to remedy that now.

Second year had been interesting enough. Leona had been a bit forlorn when Hermione had been Petrified, and had come to visit her every day in the infirmary. Leona had clung quite tightly to Hermione, as she was one of the very first people to show her kindness. Harry once had told Sirius that he expected they got on so well because, though it was nothing compared to what Leona had been through, Hermione knew what it was like to feel like an outsider. Leona could manage a few decent spells, but Hermione was a prodigy. Sirius often told her she was smart, and she would blush and say thank you, and he would feel pleased for the rest of the day. Leona had not known what to do when Hermione was Petrified. Still, she managed with her studies, and continued to learn to read.

Just then it was Hermione who flounced into the infirmary, looking troubled. Sirius knew she cared for the girl as well, and gestured her forward to find her. Sirius stood behind her with a hand on her shoulder while she tucked a golden chain into her sweater.

If only she knew how much he cared for her . . .

If only Snivellus could remember the only person who'd ever been good to him, and that she had loved him . . .

Sirius scoffed.

When Leona had come to the infirmary, Sirius could tell something was wrong. She had one hand on the wall, and another held out in front of her, and her bottom lip was trembling. She didn't talk very often, so Sirius was surprised when she said, "Hello? I can't see anything."

He rushed over to her, and helped her to the bed, and then called for Madam Pomfrey. The mediwitch had been upset, and Flooed Snivellus and McGonagall, who showed up immediately. Sirius saw the panicked look on Snivellus' face before he hid it, and he knew that their suspicions were the same.

"What's wrong?" Hermione whispered to Sirius while Snape looked into Leona's eyes. Sirius patted the top of her head- it wouldn't do for him to kiss her, now, would it?- and tried to smile. "Not to worry, pet. She's having a bit of trouble seeing, but I'm sure it'll wear off soon. How's Ron and Harry?" he asked, hoping to distract her from her friend's problem. He took her bag for her and pretended to rummage around in it. She smiled up at him while he did so, and he pulled out an essay that had been laying on top. He held it up and gasped. "Hermione!" he said, "An _Outstanding _on a Potions essay? Oh, I knew you had it in you . . ."

She laughed and tried to snatch the essay away. Snape gave Sirius a murderous look and said, "Move, you fool, I need to find a book of mine . . ."

Then, all at once, when Snape had been attempting to billow by them, he accidentally (though it didn't matter to Sirius) shoved Hermione, causing her to fall back toward Leona's bed. She grabbed the girl's ankle, as it was the nearest thing to her, and Sirius fell on Snape (though it was meant to be more of a tackle) and when McGonagall gave a shout there was a breaking of glass and Hermione began crying. Sirius had a feeling he knew what was happening; there was no way he could be wrong, not after he had become so used to her curly hair, her bookish ways, and the tiny curve of her lips-

Snape pushed Sirius off him, growling about worthless dogs, and when they both looked up, the most important people in their lives were gone.

* * *

**Oh geez... How was that? I haven't published anything in a while, so please tell me what you thought. If it's utter rubbish I'll take it down, but I'd love to know if anyone is interested. I'm working on chapter two right now! Or... maybe after I eat dinner. Either way, review and let me know what you think!  
Much love,  
-Paige Allen**


	2. Chapter 2

**I own nothing except plot and character and dialogue and... stuff. Things.  
Let me know what you think!  
I also apologize for my interpretation of teenage boy talk- I don't spend a lot of time around boys, or have any brothers. Review!**

There was gold dust smeared all over everything, and when Hermione sat up her palms were bleeding, but other than that she was fine. The chain around her neck was hot, so she pulled it away as quickly as she could and saw that the glass pendant at the end, filled with dust no more. She moaned, and gathered up all the little pieces of glass.

"Leona?" Hermione called, and the girl said shakily, "I'm here. Where are you?"

"Where are _we _is more like it," Hermione grumbled, standing up. Presently they seemed to be in the hospital wing, the same place they had been before the Time Turner had broken- Hermione wasn't sure what that would mean for them- but it wasn't the same. There was no Snape, towering over the girls, and no Sirius, taking notes and patting her head. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen, and it was dark.

"We must've gone back a few hours," Hermione mumbled and then stood up to find Leona. The girl was on her hands and knees, wide eyes staring blankly at the floor, waiting for Hermione to come help her. Hermione had been going to the hospital wing in the first place to see her friend who ad apparently gone blind. She had heard Snape throwing around words like "treatment" and "trauma" but she had no idea what could have caused it. In the summer Leona stayed at Hogwarts, so there was no reason for her to have received anything like the trauma she had grown up with.

Hermione helped her stand up, and when the girl was on her feet she looked all around, though she couldn't see anything. "Smells like we're still in the hospital," she mumbled.

"We are," Hermione said, looking around. She knew, if there had been an accident with the Time Turner, and there had, the first thing she should do was go see Dumbledore. It might be a bit hard to lead Leona there, but she would not leave her blind friend all alone. So Hermione wrapped Leona's arm in hers and explained softly that they were going to go see the Headmaster, and that she promised she wouldn't walk her into any walls. Leona nodded once, and they were off.

It was a challenge, at first, because Hermione was used to walking briskly with her arms full of books, not a person, but in the end they managed it. Stair cases were especially slow—had it taken her this long to ever see the Headmaster before?—but again, with Hermione coaching her on where the steps were, and only one fall, they were at the Headmaster's door. They had not seen anyone, not a single person in the hallway, so Hermione suspected that it was after curfew.

They stood there at the front door for a good few minutes before Hermione realized she didn't have the password. Leona voiced the same thing, since she suspected where they were, and said that she would wait there if Hermione wanted to find someone to ask. Just then, as Hermione was becoming a bit frantic and randomly guessing passwords, she heard footsteps in the hall. She did not think she would see who she ended up seeing, and so did not hide. A boy with sandy hair and circles under his eyes walked up, and he stopped short when he saw the two girls standing there.

"Hello?" he asked, though he could see them quite clearly.

Something horrible happened in Hermione's head then. She knew this man. She knew the older version of this man.

There was no way it could be anyone but Lupin. How, with the hair and the scars across his face and the tired look in his eyes, could this be anyone but him? She did not know how the scars had come to be, and she did not know why he was always so tired, but she knew the moment she saw him that this man was her friend.

"Hello," she answered weakly, as if she did not know him.

He shuffled his feet, looking at the door to the Headmaster's office. Leona kept her eyes on the floor.

"Do you, uh, go here?" he asked shyly, frowning. "I've never seen you before."

Hermione came up with something quick. "Yes," she said, "but we've been transferred. From . . . Beauxbatons."

He nodded. "Um, do you need to see the Headmaster? I think the password today was chocolate frogs."

Hermione nodded once, smiled at him (nervously), and said "Chocolate frogs!" The moment the stone gargoyle began to move she hopped up the stairs, Leona in tow, eager to put some distance between them.

"Oh, Merlin!" Hermione sighed once the door shut again, and Leona frowned. She had been able to hear everything that had been happening.

"That was Mr. Lupin, wasn't it?" she asked.

Hermione sighed, and nodded, even though Leona couldn't see it.

"Yeah, it was."

XOXOXO

Snape and Sirius both sat up, equal expressions of horror on their faces. They both knew what had happened, and Sirius, somewhere in the back of his mind, prided himself on connecting the dots even before that day. He had known that Hermione wasn't from Beauxbatons, like she said she was, but he had ignored it, because if he had accused her they might not have ever become friends, and he might not have ever hoped for more . . .

"No," Snape whispered hoarsely, though it was obviously only meant to be heard by himself. "No, not that girl . . ."

Sirius stood up. "You remember her too?" he asked, and Snape's head whipped around to face his. He glared then, so evilly that Sirius might have been accusing him of doing this on purpose.

"Of course I remember, you blithering idiot!" Snape snarled, advanced quickly on Sirius with his fists balled and his face contorted with rage. "She was the only—" He stopped himself then, though Sirius knew what he was going to say. _She was the only one who was ever good to me._

"Well, what do we do now?" Sirius asked, just for something to say. Snape gave him a blazing look. "What do you think we can do?" he spat. "You remember how long they were there for!"

McGonagall and Pomfrey had only been standing there while the two men were bickering, and then very quickly they connected the dots as well.

"I knew they weren't really from Beauxbatons," McGonagall said faintly. "They didn't have accents."

XOXOXO

"Professor?" Hermione said timidly, holding on to Leona's hand. "Headmaster? Sir?"

As far as she could see, the office was empty, but she knew that did not mean that he could not be there. She saw Fawkes, the old wizard's pheonix, sitting on his perch, his long tail feathers long and a fiery red. He preened.

Then, Leona whispered, "He's sitting right there." Hermione had not read up on the impairment specifically, but she knew like she knew everything else that sometimes the hearing of a person who was blind was heightened, to compensate for not being able to see. Hermione turned her head and saw Headmaster Dumbledore sitting in a chair, rather in the shadows of his office, with some spinning trinket in his hands. He watched them for a moment, and they stared back, and then he stood up.

"Headmaster," Hermione said, "there's been an accident. I- you- there was a Time Turner, and I fell, and-"

"I'm sorry, my dear, but have we met? You know my name when I do not know yours."

Hermione gaped at him, and Leona sighed. "I- sir, I'm Hermione Gr-"

Dumbledore held up a hand. "You said there was a Time Turner involved in this accident, did you not?" She nodded mutely. "Then, perhaps, it would be best if you did not reveal your true identity, to me or to anyone else. You are enrolled here at Hogwarts, I assume?" He gestured to her uniform.

She nodded once more.

"Sir, I fell on the Time Turner and it broke, and I was-" She was rambling now, because she was panicked; how far back had she gone if he didn't know her yet?

"I was wondering if you knew the date," she finished lamely. There were no calendars hanging in his office.

He chuckled. "I know the date, my dear. The question is- do you?"

He waved his wand and in golden letters the words _Octobr first, 1975 _were spelled into the air. Hermione gasped, and Leona leaned toward her. "What is it?" she asked. Hermione whispered the words to her and Leona sighed again. "Oh, capital," she murmured sarcastically.

XOXOXO

"Hermione Grant and Leona Bernard will suffice, I should think," Dumbledore said, nodding thoughtfully. Hermione looked down at herself- blue had never really been her color. She and Leona were currently wearing Beauxbatons uniforms, Dumbledore having tamed Hermione's curly hair a bit so that the hat would fit. She was not fond of the heels, and neither was Leona. However, Hermione felt a bit bad for the girl; at least she could se herself where she was walking in heels- Leona couldn't.

Leona wasn't really that interested in the uniforms, as she couldn't see what they looked like anyway, so she sat quietly and listened to Dumbledore. Even before she had lost her sight some two days ago, she had been quiet. Hermione couldn't blame her; when they had become friends, Leona had told her in her limited vocabulary about the things that had happened to her. Hermione had cried more than Leona.

"Your mothers are sisters, making you two cousins, and when you were young they moved to France for your fathers' work. You went to school there, though you were born English, and finally they decided for you to go to school in England. This weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend, and you will be able to get your school uniforms then, as well as your books and new wands-"

"But sir," Hermione said, "surely you don't mean we should go to school here?"

Dumbledore gave her a look and a small smile. "How else would you receive your education?"

Hermione gaped at him. "We could-" She flapped the hand that wasn't holding Leona's. "We could ruin the future! We could see someone we know, we could-"

Harry's parents.

Sirius! Remus!

_Snape_.

Hermione put her head in her hand and moaned. Leona squeezed her hand, and even then, when she was distressed, Hermione marvelled at the fact that Leona was the one doing the comforting.

"My dear girl," Dumbledore said, "I trust you both to realize that this is a delicate situation and that discretion is of the utmost importance. I will, while you are being educated, attempt to research a way to return to the future- no, I do not wish to know when- and smooth this over."

Hermione's bottom lip trembled but she nodded; Dumbledore was the wisest man she knew.

"Now, Miss Grant, Miss Bernard, I have but one question to ask of you, and then you may proceed with the other students to dinner." He steepled his fingers and looked very seriously at Leona. As if she could sense it, the girl straightened her scarred back and looked at the direction from which his voice was coming.

"Will you be able to participate in classes when your vision is taking into account?" he asked. Leona nodded, giving him a small smile. "Hermione can help me. If nothing else, I can listen and charm a quill to write essays when I speak."

Dumbledore nodded, considering this. "I will speak with your teachers concerning this matter. Ladies, please allow me to escort you to the Great Hall." He stood and Hermione stood as well, and pulled Leona to her feet. The girl grabbed on to her arm, and wobbled behind her in the high heeled shoes.

XOXOXO

"Did you hear? That Lupin told his friends there were two-"

"- new girls! Can you believe it? I hear they're-"

"- French! Or at least they're from Beauxbatons. I hope they're-"

"- pretty! Merlin knows we could do with some-"

"- interesting girls. I wonder where they'll be-"

"- sorted?"

The halls were full of chatter as the students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry filed to dinner, gossiping here and there about the new students they had heard tell of. It wasn't often that Hogwarts received new students in the middle of the year, so everyone knew about it.

"Make way, make way," one Sirius Black said, pushing by people in the halls and dragging his friends behind him. He had been one of the first to hear the news, and when Moony had said the words "two girls" he had leapt up and started for the hall. Remus held him back, and said it could wait until dinner, and so he anxiously sat, looking to the door every two seconds.

When everyone filed into the Great all they saw the girls standing by the High Table with the Headmaster, wearing blue uniforms that were obviously from Beauxbatons. Sirius noticed that the girs were holding hands, and he stalled. Was he already too late?

They sat, and he could see the girs squirming under all the scrutiny. The girl on the left, with the curly brown hair, was looking straight at everyone, while the other girl, with hair so blonde it was white, looked at her feet. The brown haired girl looked at him, right in the eye, and seemed to gasp. He winked at her- she was pretty, after all- and she turned crimson before turning away.

"Look at that, Padfoot, youre making the girl blush already!" James cried, and Sirius grinned at him. Remus shook his head although he was smiling and Peter Pettigrew gazed up at Sirius adoringly.

When most of the house tables were filled, Headmaster Dumbledore stood up and everyone went silent. He smiled at everyone and then said in his commanding voice, "Welcome, everyone! Though I know we have already had one Welcoming Feast there are two students joining us who have not yet been welcomed. Perhaps, before the Sorting Ceremony-"

Hermione gasped. He hadn't said anything about being resorted!

"- we should welcome them in the best way we can. All stand!"

The students at all the tables rose, the Slytherin table doing so grudgingly, and when Dumbledore began to conduct on the ribbon floating in the air everyone sang. Hermione caught Sirius' eye again (she couldn't help it; she knew his older self as well!) he winked at her once more, and this time she gave him a tentative smile.

The song finished, although the two boys Hermione (painfully) recognized as Sirius Black and James Potter, cerca 1975, drew out the finishing lines for about thirty seconds longer than everyone else, waving their arms and closing their eyes in the spirit of the song. Hermione giggled.

Then, before she knew it, McGonagall was bringing out the spindly three-legged stool and holding the ancient patched hat, and everyone in their seats turned in apprehension. Dumbledore motioned for Hermione to go first, and once she had whispered to her and told her what was going on she smoothed out her silk dress and stepped forward. She sat on the stool, feeling very much as she had when she was a scared, amazed first year, removed her blue hat, holding it delicately in her lap, and allowed the brim of the Sorting hat to slide over her eyes once more.

"_Ah, yes_," it whispered to her, in that voice she had remembered so well, "_certainly some bravery here, and great intelligence- would you prefer Ravenclaw?- endless patience, helping your friend like that, perhaps Hufflepuff? No? You're sure? Better be-_"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

There was a thunderous applause from the Gryffindor table, and Sirius and James even stood up on the benches, and Hermione sighed, because even though she and Leona were in a different time, she would have one thing that was familiar to her- her common room.

Before walking down to the table, however, Hermione put her hat back on and walked back over to Leona to lead her to the stool. A hush fell over everyone, and Hermione could practically hear it click with some people- they realized that she was blind.

Hermione made sure that Leona would not fall off the stool and waited while the hat spoke with her as well. She would wait there for a moment, and when their second Sorting was done she would lead her back to Gryffindor table, and they could go from there-

"SLYTHERIN!"

***ducks* Do you hate me now? I hope not. **

**I hope I wrote everything all right and well. I've tried to do a Time Turner fic like 48448463569 times but they never worked out, so please be patient with me. Do tell me what you think! Anything you'd like to see? Any certain lines you wish for me to include?**

**A huge thank you to **bma925, FreeSpiritSeeker**, and **Athemos **for being my first signed-in reviewers! It means the world to me and I appreciate it. Thank you all so much and come back next time!**

**Yours royally, **

**King Paige Allen **


	3. Chapter 3

**I know he's a bit older, but let's just say (because I am the author and we all appreciate a little love/interest triangle, don't we?) that Lucius Malfoy is in Third Year along with the Marauders and Snape. Aye? Drink up, me hearties!  
(I do so wish I was a pirate.)  
**

* * *

"Sir, please, she can't go down there, she can't _see_! What'll she do without someone to help her? I can't-"

"I am very sorry, Miss Grant, but I do not have the authority to decide where a student will be housed once they have been Sorted. We have no choice but to make the best of this situation. At the very least, I can assure you that Gryffindors and Slytherins will share the majority of classes together this year, and I am sure she can make other friends who will help her," Dumbledore said, though his face was grave.

Hermione was panicking now. She knew what Slytherins were like, and the poor blind girl would not be able to survive among them with no friends around.

"But not with Slytherins, sir!" Hermione protested. They had gone back to his office once more, after they both ate dinner with shaking hands, and Dumbledore had asked Leona to wait outside. Hermione helped her to sit in her blue silk dress, and she was waiting out there. Everyone else had gone to their common rooms.

Dumbledore gave her a stern frown. "Miss Grant," he said, "just because these students are in Slytherin does not mean-"

"No, sir, you don't understand!" Hermione cried. "In our time, in the future, she was rap- abused," she faltered there, thinking she had covered her mistake up, but Dumbedore knew what she was about to say anyway, "for seven years! I can't abandon her now-"

"Miss Grant," he said, and by the tone of his voice Hermione knew the conversation was over, "I assure you that she will be perfectly safe in Slytherin house. Now, you have a day full of classes tomorrow, and I am sure it would be extremely rude of me to keep you from your bed. I trust you know where Gryffindor Tower is?" He raised a silvery eyebrow, and she nodded dejectedly. Dumbledore nodded, and rose from the chair behind his desk. "Good," he said. "Lemon drop?"

"No thank you, sir," Hermione whispered, and slouched toward the door. She thought of Leona, feeling the walls and floors to try to see, all alone in her room while the Slytherin girls laughed silently at her, because she had no one to wake her up for class. Would she be able to dress herself? How would she shower? Hermione felt tears well up in her eyes but she bit down on her lip to keep them from coming. Leona was strong. She would survive.

She _had _to.

When Hermione and Dumbledore met Leona outside the front door of the Headmaster's office, she was sitting in the same place as before with her legs crossed. Hermione glanced down at her feet, and gasped. There were scars around her ankles, ones that she had never seen since Leona always wore high socks, that looked like rope burn. She sighed again, and Dumbledore gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, and Hermione helped Leona stand up.

Slowly, until Leona felt capable to walk more quickly, Dumbledore led the two girls down the hallways, Leona holding Hermione's hand. Leona did not speak, but Hermione knew she was nervous.

Finally, Dumbledore led them to a room behind a statue or armor and into a damp, green-lit common room. Everyone in the room, those people who had been speaking quietly in small clusters stopped to turn and look at her with accusations in their eyes. Hermione looked around, and she thought vaguely to herself if someone tried to speak to her she might be better off just faking French, and she flinched when her eyes fell on a boy in his own chair, his lank black hair falling in his eyes with a book in his lap. He looked up at her, and their eyes met. Then he looked to Leona, and he frowned. Her eyes were in his direction as well, as if she were appraising him, though she could not know what he looked like.

"This way, Miss Bernard," Dumbledore said, giving the Slytherins in the room a polite look as he escorted the girl across the floor and to the girls' rooms. Leona was trembling, Hermione could see it in her fingers, but she kept her head high and did not speak.

With nothing left for her to do, and certainly no reason for her to stay gaping from the doorway, Hermione turned and slouched up to Gryffindor Tower, desperately hoping all the while that Leona would be able to forgive her.

* * *

The metal was cool, and the sweat was slick on her skin; with long fingers she rubbed her hand along the wall and finally grasped the faucet handle. She turned her head this way and that to see if anyone was around her, but in vain; she only saw black. She heard the rushing of water through the old piping, and then she heard it start to spill from the shower head. She gasped; the water was freezing.

"Hot water's on the left," a cold voice said, and pulled the plastic curtain shut. Leona humphed. She thought she had closed that.

"Nice scars," another female voice said tonelessly, and Leona sensed her reach across her chest to turn on the hot water. She was suddenly frustrated, and angry; she didn't want to be helped, she wanted to do it herself. "Where'd you get them?"

Leona was angry now. She hadn't anticipated people seeing the worst of them, those being on her back.

"My father raped me for seven years," she snapped at the voice on her left, and felt a sad kind of pleasure when she heard the girl's mouth snap shut. No one spoke after that.

Leona showered in the stall and combed her fingers through her hair until she wasn't quite as sweaty as she had been before, and after a long moment of frustrated groping she located her towel. She wrapped it around her chest, under her armpits, and stepped out of the stall. When she tried walking to the bench where she had left her Beauxbatons uniform, she bumped into another body.

"Easy," someone snapped, and then, probably realizing that her wide eyes were unseeing, sighed, steadying her. "You're in the blue, yeah?" the girl asked.

"Yes," Leona answered shortly.

A silk dress was shoved at her and she caught it, and after she had backed herself into a corner she pulled it over her head and wrapped her long white hair in her towel. She was already exhausted, and more than on edge, and she hadn't even been to her lessons yet!

"Can someone tell me the time?" Leona said after a moment of debating with herself, and after a tense silence someone said, "One hour until classes."

"Thank you," Leona answered, and she shook the towel off her head. In bare feet, her silk dress chill against her skin, she ran her hand along the wall until she found the door. She moved her hand down until she found the door knob, turned it, and stepped out and into the girls' rooms.

Dumbledore had told her that in the long, narrow room with beds all along the right wall, the bed closest to the door would be hers. She walked until she hit the edge of the bed with her knees, and felt someone come up behind her.

"You're not leaving looking like that, are you?" a voice asked her.

Leona looked over her shoulder, and saw nothing. "There isn't really much I can do about it, is there?" she snapped, and then sighed. She knew she would need help from someone- anyone- if she was going to survive this. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know, I'm not sure how I should-"

The bed depressed behind her. Then there were hands on her head, and she froze.

"You're French, aren't you? A French braid should do it, then."

Leona sat up. "I suppose. What's your name?"

Silence for a moment. "Azael."

"Leona."

"I'd gathered."

The girl with the cold voice stood up and Leona patted her hair. The damp strands were twisted in a long, thick plait down her back. Someone, presumably Azael, grabbed her hand and jerked her up off the bed. She felt someone very close to her face, and then heard the girl whisper, "We stick together here. If you'd like me to help you, say it. If you're going to refuse, go bunk with the Gryffindors; they're known for being too proud as well."

The way Azael spoke reminded Leona of a queen, a queen made of ice, or stone. She was not afraid of her, no, she already knew fear and this was not it, but more she felt that it would be wise to accept help where it was offered, instead of stumbling around on her own.

"If you stick with me, I'll make you a somebody."

* * *

Hermione, after she had gone to Gryffindor Tower, had found her bed straight away, shut her curtains and proceeded to lay awake the entire night. The other girls had not made any effort to speak to her, and she was glad for it; no use crying in their faces, not now.

All she wanted to do was go and find Leona, and figure out with the poor blind girl how they were going to survive in this timeline without messing everything up. So, after a hasty shower, she combed her charmed hair back away from her face, slid into her dress, jammed her feet in her shoes, pulled her hat on her head, and made her way to the Great Hall without any guidance from other students. If they wondered how she knew where to go, they didn't ask.

When she sat down, she saw that she was still much earlier than everyone else. Normally, she would've been reading at that point, before breakfast, or eating breakfast early so she would have time to read afterward, but not today. Her stomach was twisting far too much to allow her to relax with a book.

Slowly, slowly, the Great Hall began to fill with hungry, groggy students, and a dull roar made its way to her ears. She looked all around, and finally she was able to see a blue dress, just like hers. She very nearly heaved herself off the bench to go and find the girl, to cling to her arm and not release her until a minute before curfew, but then she saw that she was being helped along by a Slytherin girl with shining black hair and highly arched eyebrows. Her lips were red, her eyes were cold, and Hermione had trouble believing this girl was only a third year. She helped Leona to sit down, and then whispered with her red lips very close to her ear. Leona, face stoic, nodded, and held one hand in front of her. The black-haired girl, Leona's very opposite, put an apple in her hand, and then directed Leona to bite it. Hermione looked away, not wanting to be caught staring at the Slytherins.

At her own table, she immediately noticed one face in particular, with dark curly hair, an aristocratic nose, and a charming smile. Sirius Black. Her heart thumped. Did this mean he had remembered her in the future, when he was so nice to her? Did he remember her wearing a blue Beauxbatons dress, and that was why he didn't mind walking with her and her friends on Hogsmeade weekends, or buying her Christmas presents? Hermione had always just rather assumed it was because he had no children of his own- _not true, he's got Harry_, she thought- that he seemed alright with handing out money, but now that she thought about it the pats on her head and the personal nickname of 'pet' had seemed a bit more than fatherly.

Not that she minded, of course. While he had never been anything like innappropriate with her, it did not prevent her from understanding and appreciating the fact that he was a handsome man. Even after the few short years he had spent in Azkaban, and his age_- doesn't matter, age, does it_?- he had retained the Black charm she had heard Remus Lupin speak of so often.

Hermione realized she was probably staring at him too, though he was too busy shoving bacon in his mouth and throwing it at James Potter- _Harry's dad_!- to notice. Her stomach began to flop more than ever at that point. What was she going to do?

Before she had answered that question, she had garnered the attention of one Sirius Black. He grinned at her, and said something to his friends, and then dashed madly away from the table to stop by her side. She jumped- she was so close to him, and even though it didn't look like him it really was him, the same mind and everything, just in a different body- and bowed low over his extended hand.

"Bonjour," he said, smiling cleverly to himself, and Hermione couldn't help but blush at that. She slowly put her hand in his, and to her surprise- and was that pleasure?- he kissed her knuckles before standing and announcing, "My name is Sirius Orion Black the Third, and I am here, humbly at your service, if you are ever in need of a friend, brother, guide, protector, or," he winked at her, "something more. Please, I hate to think of you all alone on your first day. Come sit with me and my friends!"

Hermione could not decide whether or not he had rehearsed that speech, and how many times he must've used it before, but before she could decide whether or not it would be wise to sit next to him and risk letting something slip, he had jerked her off the bench and whisked her down the row, slapping her down in another seat next to him. In her high heels she had made quite a racket, and the hem of her blue silk dress had spun quite elegantly when he twirled her out of her seat.

Surely Third Years weren't capable of charm like this?

Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew (Hermione assumed), and James Potter, in all his bed-headed glory, sat at the table in various states of sleep. Sirius seemed to be the only one who was fully awake; Remus was slowly spreading jelly on a piece of toast; Peter was pulling the orange juice jug toward him without much success; and James was lying his head on the table, snoring into his eggs. Hermione looked cautiously around.

"Welcome to Hogwarts!" Sirius said, flinging his arms up. James startled slightly at this, but other than that no one reacted. Hermione gave Sirius a small smile and a shrug.

* * *

"Poor luck. You'll have to find someone else to help you see," Azael said to Leona without any real feeling, handing her back her schedule. The girl couldn't see so Azael picked up her hand and tightened her fingers around the paper. She had read Leona her schedule, and found that she only shared one class with her, that being DADA. How anyone expected Leona to take part in any of these classes was beyond her, but she was not in charge of the school.

"That's fine," Leona said, a bit stiffly, "I appreciate you helping me."

Normally, Leona did not speak so well; she had spent the first ten years of her life not speaking at all. She supposed being stuck blinded in a group full of Slytherins had scared an impressive vocabulary into her.

"Let me see your schedule again," Azael demanded, and without hesitation Leona held up the paper. Azael inspected it, put it back in Leona's fingers, and then said to a person a few seats down from her, "Lucius, be an upstanding gentleman and escort Leona to History of Magic, won't you?"

There was intense silence for a moment, and then a voice much closer to her than before. "Of course," Lucius Malfoy said, and Azael placed Leona's hand on his proffered arm. She took a deep breath at this. She did not know this man personally, but she knew his son, and he was a bully. Still, that didn't give her the right to judge him; she would've been in Azkaban in a second if people had assumed things about her based on her father. Lucius smelled nice.

"Miss Bernard, is it not?" Lucius asked in such a regal voice that Leona had a hard time beliveing that this boy was only a Third Year. Leona nodded, afraid that if she spoke her voice would break, and then heard Azael's more familiar voice say, "Perhaps you should get started now," and Leona felt that the statement was directed at her.

Lucius said, as he helped her to stand, "My name is Lucius Malfoy. Pleasure to meet you, and be of assistance. Tell me, who are your parents?"

* * *

**Sorry it's been so long, it's been crazy around here. And not in a good way. Reviews give me something to be cheerful about.**

**Yours royally,  
-King Paige Allen **


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